‘Sebastian’s sealed to me.’ I clutched the dandelion pendant at my neck. Though I hadn’t believed it at first, there was no longer any doubt in my mind. He was my guardian. I was his charge.
‘I know,’ said Hugo, sounding resigned. ‘But Augustine has wanted Sebastian from the start. After everything that went down last autumn, I thought he’d given up his quest. But it looks like I was wrong. Augustine knows there’s something special about him.’
My stomach rolled uneasily. I’d known Sebastian was special, even before he’d become a gargoyle. I’d never met anyone like him before. But the way Hugo used the word sounded different. Ominous. ‘What is it?’
James sighed heavily. ‘We don’t know.’
All my scared feelings funneled back into anger. ‘Well, what do you know, then? I came here because I thought you could help Sebastian. You’re the ones who turned him into a gargoyle in the first place.’
‘People don’t turn into gargoyles, Josephine,’ Hugo replied. ‘Shadowen have to be created. Their bodies are carved from special stone and then brought to life with prah.’ Hugo paused, as though working over several thoughts in his head. ‘You know what Sebastian looked like when you first met him, and how he is now. There’s something unique about him.’
Vincent pounded his fist against the wall. ‘Now, Augustine has him.’
‘Augustine was ordered to take Sebastian directly to the Court of Shadows for trial,’ I said. ‘If he had failed to show up, the Council would know. And so would my father.’
‘Josephine’s right,’ said Hugo. He moved behind the counter and stared at the wall calendar near the register. ‘The High Council is scheduled to meet in three days. That gives us time. But we should leave tonight.’
‘When?’ asked Vincent.
‘Midnight,’ Hugo replied. Then he turned back to me. ‘Thank you for letting us know what’s happened. I’m sure you’re being missed right now. You’d better get back to the Circe.’
‘No. I have to get to Savannah.’
Hugo frowned. ‘What good would that do?’
‘I’m going to testify on Sebastian’s behalf.’
‘So tell your father to take you.’
I hesitated. I hadn’t been allowed to set foot inside our primary Gypsy Haven since becoming the Queen’s successor. But I couldn’t tell the Corsis that. ‘Look,’ I continued quickly, ‘I have to get to Savannah before Sebastian goes on trial. I’m a Romany. The Queen has to see me.’
‘Josephine.’ Hugo’s voice was firm. ‘I get where you’re coming from, I really do. But you’re not coming with us. Besides, what do you think would happen if Nicolas discovered you just took off and left the Circe without permission?’
I met his gaze without blinking. ‘I’m going to Savannah.’
‘No, you’re not.’ Hugo lifted me to my feet, not forcibly, but enough for me to know he meant business. The guys crowded around me, herding me towards the door. ‘Thank you for coming here to tell us. I know it was a risk. But let us handle it from here.’
I grabbed hold of Hugo’s shirt, desperate now. ‘Hugo, please.’
James opened the door and stood aside.
Hugo took my hands in his. ‘Things are complicated enough as it is. You being there would only make things more difficult. The sooner we get to Savannah, the sooner we clear this up and get Sebastian back.’
‘But—’
‘Go home, Josephine.’
Hugo ushered me out of the Gypsy Ink and shut the door behind me.
It was sweltering underneath the stage lights. My thick tights clung damply to my legs, and sweat tickled the back of my neck. As I eased carefully into a headstand, balancing on Andre’s shoulders, my sequined costume scraped against my arms.
Once I made it through the routine, the show would be over, and I would be free. I tried to focus, to keep myself in the moment of our performance, but the Circe continued to fade around me … my mind traveled, the crowd blurred …
The Holding Tent emptied quickly after Sebastian’s trial. The benches were abandoned and the space was eerily quiet. Except for one sound – the sound of labored breathing, the sound of someone in pain.
He was still chained to the center support pole, just as he’d been during the kris. I stared at Sebastian in sickened shock. His jeans were ripped in several places with long tears. There were gashes in his arms, covered with his strange, purple-black blood. A deep slash cut across his chest. It had ripped the fabric of his t-shirt away. His jaw was discolored, his gray skin turning an unsettling shade of indigo.
My eyes rose to his face, and his eyes met mine.
I ran across the room.
‘Sebastian!’
‘Josephine,’ he answered. His voice was hoarse. ‘What are you doing here?’
I studied his wounds. ‘Oh, God, what have they done?’
‘I’m fine,’ he said, smiling.
He kept his lips closed, as always. But how could he smile right now? I tried to laugh, but it felt like I was choking. ‘You suck at lying, you know.’ I suddenly remembered the Marksmen. ‘Are they still here?’
‘They’re in the woods,’ he answered. He shifted his body, trying to loosen the chains around his middle. I could see pain flicker behind his silver eyes. ‘What’s going on?’
‘A handful of grotesques near the back gates.’ I looked away, hating to say it out loud, to admit the next bit. ‘And two chimeras.’
Sebastian growled. The sound was inhuman, threatening. But it wasn’t directed at me. It was for himself. I saw the glimmer of sharp teeth as he started to speak. ‘I should’ve—’
I pressed my fingers against his mouth. ‘Don’t go there. I’m the one who told you to leave Anya and Matthias. The Marksmen will deal with them. Even if you had killed those chimeras on the mountain, it wouldn’t have prevented all this from happening.’
I removed my hand, and I saw him swallow back another growl. His eyes, which had taken on a fierce gleam, softened again. I felt a kind of unspoken communication pass between us, wrapping around me like a blanket, familiar and comfortable. We were in this together, no matter what happened next.
Sebastian’s wings suddenly shuddered against the cords, and he winced. He maneuvered his body, trying to find a comfortable position, but the Marksmen had done their job well.
Quentin’s Marksmen.
Anger licked across my stomach as I remembered how nonchalantly Quentin had withheld casting a vote in Sebastian’s verdict – a decision that could’ve set him free. Quentin’s hatred of the shadow world was fierce. I’d once seen it as noble. But after this …
‘They’re wrong about you,’ I said, placing my hand against Sebastian’s neck. I felt him tremble. ‘I should have challenged my father and the kris. I should